Alchemy of the Soul
by Tomo Trillions
Summary: *Updated 7/26: Chapter four + Rating upped* On the streets of December Legato struggles to survive with his baby sister- before He comes, a blue-eyed angel and a monster, who will take Legato's battered soul and transmute it into gold. Rated 'R' for y
1. Escape

~~  
  
Please be aware that this is, in general, a yaoi story. Knives/Legato, to be exact, though how far Legato will actually get with his Master has yet to be seen. Andante is at the moment my own character, though I have been told that within the Trigun manga there *is* a possibility for Legato to have a younger sister, so I didn't completely make up the idea.  
  
Also note that this fanfic simply reeks with bloody violence, murder and an occasional non-lemon rape scene... vague, but you *know* what's going on. Don't read it if you don't know what you like.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
The room was dim, poorly lit, and smelled heavily of cigar smoke, urine, and stale bread. Through the haze of bad lighting and grim coughing, a family ate in morbid silence. The food, hard to come by as it was, scarcely met the needs of four, and the youngest girl sobbing at the meager portions that left her stomach half empty and begging for more. A boy was seated beside her, his fork in one hand- he wasn't eating. The troubled child was staring at the prongs of the instrument intently, watching them twist and writhe like metal snakes.  
  
The girl wolfed down the remainder of her thin slab of dark meat and looked instantly to her parent, the hunger in her sunken eyes burning feverishly. "Mama...more?"  
  
"No, no, dear! Everyone needs to have some. We'll have more next week, you know that, the rent was due yesterday. Everything is rent!" the woman was thin and blonde, and would have been beautiful if it weren't for the poor hand she had been dealt by fate. Looping natural curls were held back by a brown band, with no thought for appearance, though her voice, once sweet, was now strained to the breaking point by the path she had chosen. Her eyes were a shimmery golden brown, plastered with damp make-up that didn't quite match her dress, the dingy color running slightly in the corners thanks to the damp tears she had shed earlier. Mother was always crying, the young boy scowled in annoyance, watching his fork knot itself into a loop around his wrist.  
  
The girl's tears were muffled into soft half-sobs, but in the silent gloom they were painfully obvious. Finally her father scraped a bit of his dry fruit into a napkin, passing it across the small table to the starving child, who devoured it without hesitation or thought of the others, her expression still unsatisfied.  
  
The blue haired boy watched his mother with a disdainfully curled upper lip, eyes narrowed onto thin slants of glittering hatred, strangely feline in their appearance. His hair was as shaggy and as unkempt as his sister's, long because he refused to be touched by others (He hated skin, said it felt dirty), because he refused to cut part of himself off. "Mother," his words were cold for one so young, the gleaming golden eyes a tad too knowing. "…you should share."  
  
The woman shifted and glanced at her husband, who's hair was as dark as his son's, the color of bruised flesh, of midnight whispers. How often did they go through these issues? It was hard enough to support two as a bartender and a maid, let alone a family of four, one with...issues. That was the kindest way to put it, wasn't it? "Legato, dear-"  
  
"She's hungry."  
  
The girl was silent now, her curly blue-black locks falling ratty and uncombed down her back, her dress a pale smoky gray- she knew her brother loved her, and gazed at him with an adoring gaze. He *always* earned her food. He *always* brought something good. He was safe and kind. "Legato," their father stood, face pale, fearing the confrontation. Legato as an odd child, with odd capabilities and a tendency towards violence that made the whole family teeter on edge when they were around him- now was no different. The four year old's eyes were far too angry as he watched his father begin speaking, nervously.  
  
"Legato, I know you are hungry, I know Andante is as well, but right now money is tight," the man whispered, feeling the heat in the room rise, as it always did when Legato was annoyed. "Please-"  
  
"Selfish old man." Legato reached over and snatched his father's portion from the plate, and the elder man swallowed back a protest, sitting again as his son swept the excess meat over to his sister. The boy was too dangerous to stand up against, too-  
  
"Lega-brother, 'm 'ungry-"  
  
Andante pursed her lips into a thin pout, though the action just highlighted her shadowy cheeks, thin with hunger and pale in the dismal lighting. At three, she was Legato's only weakness, his companion, though not exactly his friend. They were constantly together, and while she only had a mild version of his abilities, together they were almost unstoppable, and always got their way. "More," the troubled child whispered, glaring at his mother with glassy, golden eyes. He could smell her fear, and the heavy odor disgusted him.  
  
The woman cleared her throat helplessly, wringing her napkin under the table. If more food was eaten today, there would be none for two more, and that would be worst than this momentary hunger- she turned her darkened eyes on her son, licked her lips, tried to explain. "Legato, there isn't any-"  
  
"More," Legato said again, his knuckles whitening in concentration, the twisted fork on the side of his plate forgotten. It was difficult to control people, objects were much easier, but as he 'pushed' he felt his father give way and stand, face blank. The woman at the table cried out, standing as her son's mouth twisted into a feral grin, lips thin and drawn, eyes sunk within his head- "Larghetto, please wait-"  
  
The man stepped aside, neatly pushing in his chair and moving away from the battered table, every moment slightly jerky, like a marionette on strings- the child behind the scenes was grinning, pushing harshly, shoving the man nearer to the wall. The power, the sheer utter control- it was intoxicating. He was the master. He *owned* this man, the man who answered to 'father'-  
  
He had the strength it took to take a life.  
  
One step. Two steps. A board creaked, dust motes filtered between the sobbing woman at the table and her husband, who's hand was now bracing against the windowsill as the other opened the dirty pane of cracked glass. With a shaking grip he pushed the tattered drapes aside, head lolling to the left as he screamed silently, the sound dying in his throat. No screams would be allowed this creature- Legato caught the scream with his mind, deliciously terrified, empty, helpless- and gave one last mental 'shove'.  
  
Three stories was fall enough.  
  
~  
  
Money was tighter after their father's fall. Legato's mother, the poor woman, took on anything that would pay- prostitution being her main source of income, which led to even less mentionable pastimes. When she came home and sobbed into her pillow for endless hours on end, Legato and Andante would sit in their room, playing with a thin pack of bedraggled cards, counting and recounting the shapes on their surfaces. While she fell to drinking, Legato stole the excess money from her stores and spent it on candy- he and his sister would sit on the window ledge, legs dangling over the precipice that claimed their father's life as they nibbled on sweet sugary cubes.  
  
It only took time for a life of fear and filth to eat away at the woman, and before another six months had gone by, she had broken.  
  
It was an empty evening as most were, outside the sky was fogged over with stormy black-silver clouds, though there was no hint of moisture in the early desert air. Heat lightening shifted across the sky, lighting the dingy room with an occasional burst of electricity- Legato shifted on his heels as he felt his mother's mind brush his, teeming with terror and fury and determination. Raising a brow, the four year old pushed Andante behind him and turned to the door, fixating it with a narrow glare as his mother entered the room-  
  
She saw him, swallowed, raised the silver gun clenched between her fingers. "D-demon!" she spat on the floor, her knuckles white- Legato just blinked at her, his shimmery eyes narrow and furious. "Monster, I don't know what you are, but you aren't my son-" Trembling hands tightened on the trigger, the bullet was a fraction from being launched when the boy put a stop to it.  
  
Epyson Bluesummers found that she could not move her fingers, couldn't breathe, couldn't open her lips to scream. Legato lifted his hand, an expression of rapture on his face, and the woman was lifted from the ground, slamming into the thin wall with an audible crack. Her son tilted his head curiously and willed her upwards- she responded, her body seeming to stretch back against the wood-  
  
Legato found himself suffused with nearly hysterical giggles- the way her ringlets bounced as she trembled, struggling to scream- it was entertaining. The look in her eyes as the gun fell from her fingers and bounced across the scuffed floor to Andante's feet, the way her fingers twitched, unable to move or defend, unable to run- "Ha ha...hahaha...." he snickered, while Andante joined in the laughter, her voice higher, a tinny, childish crescendo. She knelt and picked up the gun, shifting it back and forth in her palms, a little grin on her tiny coral lips. The chorus of angelic amusement didn't cease, even what Legato lifted his palm and clenched his gloved fist around the invisible throat before him. As suspicious blue finger-marks found their way across the pale, sickly flesh of his mother's throat and her eyes closed, Legato turned and offered Andante his other hand. The girl moved into their bedroom and returned with a bag looped over one arm, then slipped her tiny palm into Legato's. Without a backwards glance the two disappeared out the door.  
  
~~  
  
Dreams, Legato would learn later in life, were something to be heeded and respected on every occasion. Sometimes they would save your life, other times point you in the right direction- Legato's dreams, shattered as they were, still managed to convey to him a message or two on more than one occasion. Sometimes they predicted the future- or the provided unwelcome reminders of the past. At the age of four, Legato Bluesummers did not pay as much attention to dreams as he would later in life. Because of that unfortunate slip, he was not aware of the shadowy, moon-wraith that followed him through the streets in both reality and dreams as he led his sister away from their old home. Young as he was, the boy couldn't possibly have an inkling that the most powerful being on the planet had marked him- Legato Bluesummers- as a target.  
  
As prey.  
  
~~  
  
It was more difficult than expected for two tiny souls to survive in the gutters of December, even two as gifted- or as cursed- as the blue haired siblings that took to the street that summer. Legato quickly found out that controlling humans required a great deal more energy than his other abilities, and it left him exceedingly drained for days at a time- On the streets that was a real problem that could not be ignored. The first few nights he spent with Andante on their own were miserable spans of endless time, the two children huddled in a cardboard box beneath a deck, shivering under a thin blanket in the chilly night air. The daylight that beat down in a heavy, relentless wave during the mornings and afternoons burnt the skin, rotted flesh, provided light in which their growing thinness and sickness could not be ignored. Days later, though, when Legato's strength, color, and determination returned to him and he was able to cease retching, the two summed up their situation easily.  
  
Three words.  
  
"'m 'ungry, Lega-brother."  
  
The girl's lips were thin around the butt of an unlit cigarette she had plucked off the side of the street and was currently chewing on for the taste, her hands occupied in sorting and resorting their single pack of bent cards. Legato was standing a few feet away, his legs wobbly, outside the alleyway they had claimed as their own. The past few days had shaded his face paler than before, though his narrow eyes darkened by hunger and exhaustion- they were the eyes of a hunter, a wolf, a hawk- set in a face round with baby-fat and soft curves.  
  
He was a monster.  
  
The blue-haired boy turned and looked at her, nodding silently in the dull morning half-light- his shaggy hair was tied back in a rough ponytail, his shirt completely gone. At the moment Legato had no words of any sort for her- in fact, it had been days since he had spoken at all-  
  
People began moving on the street, the city waking from it's sleepy daze and beginning to move once again. Legato's amber-gold eyes took in the activity, searching for any sign of weakness, analyzing the beat of the human hearts around him. Sinking into the scenery until he was part of the view, the living pulse of the street-  
  
They would have eaten anything by the time the boy made his move. It was quick, relatively painless- he simply picked the pocket of a passerby and returned to Andante with a handful of double dollars.  
  
It was that easy.  
  
The girl's face split into a broken grin as her brother wordlessly showed his earnings into his scruffy tunic and turned away, leading his sister across the dusty street to a small food stand.  
  
It was the best they had eaten in years.  
  
~~  
  



	2. Safety

~~  
  
"Damn brat, get back here with that!"  
  
Several gunshots echoed across the streets of December, though the only thing that actually hit the target was a hail of plaster and shattered glass as the guilty boy decked behind a wall into the ruined remains of an ancient complex. Somewhere on the streets a dog began barking and a door slammed, but the criminals that had been tormenting the residential district as of late had escaped again, this time dragging half of a slaughtered thomas after them.  
  
Lithe figures in the moonlight, swinging the carcass between them- one much taller than he had been two years before, the other still small, wispy like a wraith in the inky blackness. Midnight was an ally as were the five sparkling moons, the twin suns the banner of those who would kill them. But here in the night they would fight, win, and eat, in the darkness they found confidence and success-  
  
Legato lit a match between his fingers and threw it on a massive wad of sticky garbage before him, the greasy paper and plastic lighting up with minimal coaxing. The two children began slicing and dicing, stripping their kill into thin chunks and spearing those with metallic rods, holding them over the sickly red-gray smoke of their meager light-  
  
"Lega-brother, they 'spected us t'night," Andante's almond eyes were thoughtful and reasoning, despite her young age. Like her sibling, the bratty girl tended to think on a level above that of most other humans- though her appearance did not display such strength. "We need a new area t' hunt in."  
  
'Hunting,' as they called it, entailed anything from petty theft to arson.  
  
"We will get by," Legato said, his voice expressionless as he worked his bloody knife through muscle tissue and bone. He had known their attack was expected before he planned it- the whispers told him that much, and likewise he had known they would be successful. The whispers were more and more frequent these days, giving advice or insults, but always something. Always there.  
  
He turned slightly, feeling a brushing sensation against the his cheek, eyes narrowing. Andante, as tuned as she was to her sibling's movements, turned as well, though not quite in time to catch the sight her brother did.  
  
Tall, straight back, curving hips, cropped hair and pale, ice eyes- Legato sprang up, sensing that whatever had touched his mind was on the run, escaping him- and though the whispers spoke out vehemently against the action, the boy scrambled to his feet and charged after it, through the dusty, sandy outskirts of the city.   
  
The moon flashing across shattered windows, a scrap of tattered fabric tangled in ruins- this was the land of the dying, where only the damned carved a living for themselves. Legato knew the streets and rooftops like the back of his hands, he was familier with shortcuts, places where unsuspecting visitors would rest- he knew the slums and underworld almost better than he knew himself.  
  
Almost.  
  
Whatever it was that had contacted him so quietly remained a few breaths ahead of him, a few paces beyond his reach- "Stop!" the boy whispered as he flung himself around a curve, stumbling at last and rolling off the sidewalk into the sandy gutter trash that lined the road. Legato cried out in pain as his back slammed into a jagged edge of a broken bottle, shards of glass mutilating his flesh as he rolled and writhed in agony-  
  
There was someone before him, someone silent and calm with a gaze teeming with patient and endless knowledge. Legato pushed his way out of the bloody, polluted sand and stared upwards, his neck craned to see the face before him-  
  
He gasped.  
  
The man 'reached' for Legato, his willpower stronger than anything the boy had ever encountered- it was cold and yet hot, dry and yet dripping with unstoppable force, it was gentle as wool and yet stronger than iron, it was everything. The shaking boy stumbled upwards, drawn almost against his will until he was closer to the man-  
  
Thin lips were upturned with slight, secret amusement, they eyes narrow despite the calm expresion on the being's visage. The face itself was long with subtle curves and a tiny beauty mark at the corner of his right eye. The whole appearance smokey blonde-silver hair that almost matched the moons above- all cool, silver and sweet, like a fairy out of an ancient children's tale. "Fight with me."  
  
Something struck Legato across the face before the child could even blink, and he staggered backwards, slipping down into the sand once more. The white figure had raised his hand and was studying the boy before him as if he was a gem, searching for flaws and scratches, for any defect that would destroy the piece. Preparing to carve away the fault once it had been discovered, using any means necessary... "Use your power."  
  
Legato could barely comprehend the words, so great was his astonishment. This being had hit him, Legato Bluesummers! He, the invincible child who threw grown men to their knees when he wished it, who had never been touched or shot or caught- he had been struck dumb by a golden-white monster of mercy in the night. Fight him? Now?  
  
The boy threw up his hands and the power he was so obsessed with surged through his body-  
  
-will burning, he slammed his own intentions into the man, taking him over, controlling him, destroying the thoughts and emotions and heart of the human trash-  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Legato's jaw clenched, and the boy pressed harder- mentally, it was like slamming head-first into a stone wall. The white-clad man had an aura around him, glittering, faultless, which nothing could penetrate- he should have collapsed by now! "More." The man ordered, his arms crossed across his chest.  
  
This was a test.  
  
Paling to an even smokier shade of moonlit gray, the boy obeyed. Another ounce of his soul, another moment of tense silence, in which nothing could touch either of the two, and then-  
  
The man raised one palm.  
  
It shocked his body, as if he had swallowed a burning torch- the pain collected in his chest and throbbed delightfully, twisting with each passing second, mauling his will and brutalizing his tiny pride. Legato fell to his knees, expression formed into something that was half longing for the touch to continue and half terror at what that would mean- the being before him smiled, almost kindly, as he wrapped his own will around the boy. It was fire, it was everything, it was the touch of a lover and the blade of a sword--  
  
-soft, like feathers, hot like fire, endless like the blue skies of Gunsmoke-   
  
-gold touched black, and Legato's energy was negated to nothing-  
  
"I see…Young, yet."  
  
-gone-  
  
Legato opened his mouth to beg the being to stay and touch him again, yet nothing met his attempt but the sour tang of blood. It was sickly and crimson, dribbling down his chin in a slow, careless river- it was everywhere, painting his tunic, tasting his fingernails, dying the sand below…  
  
~~  
  
"Lega-brother! Lega-brother!"  
  
Andante reached out and shook her sibling where he lay- when no response was earned, she stepped back, fear sparkling in her slanted eyes. She had felt power from this source, some of it Legato's, some of it strange and unexplainable, terrifying in it's fathomless depths- "Lega-brother! Geddup!"  
  
Head lolling, Legato's eyes were blank and held nothing but murky, dead silence. His sister shifted nervously before reaching out and slinging him over one shoulder. She was strong despite her size, and Legato was achingly thin against her back-  
  
"Girl."  
  
Jumping, the curly-haired child skittered sideways, tripping over her own feet and falling into the sand. Legato hit the ground with a soft thump-  
  
"Do you need help?"  
  
Andante's eyes were wide as the man before her knelt, nearing her height. Quietly she tried to force him away with her mind, the way Legato always did, but something about him made it impossible to do so. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he regarded her from his position, and Andante found herself trembling with fear. "Come with me and I can help you."  
  
Come with him? A stranger?   
  
"I'll even carry your brother."  
  
"No."  
  
Legato hated being touched. Humanity was filthy and disgusting, something to be toed with the tip of your shoe, like an unpleasant mess or a rotting kill. Legato wore long sleeves, a coat, gloves- anything to keep his flesh from touching that of others.  
  
"My dear, he's sick."  
  
"Don't touch him."  
  
"You can carry him if you like..."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Black hair whipped through the cool night's breeze as Andante carried her brother after the long-haired man.  
  
Things were never the same. 


	3. Charlie

  
~~  
  
In every dream that was birthed within his mind during his delirium, Legato was kneeling. Sometimes it was during a battle, blood coursing down his cheeks, filling his mouth with acrid sweetness that slipped down his lips and stained his shirt with warmth...sometimes he was whole, healthy, prone on the ground before that precious pale man, the one he had met for moments only. Always, though, his head was bowed and his scraggly, long blue hair was falling thickly in his eyes, half obscuring the vision before him.  
  
"Please," Legato would beg, his tiny hands outstretched and his mind looped in on itself in utter terror, unable to think or breath or speak words other than that one, ever-important plea. "take me away, please take me away, I wanna go away, away, please take me from 'ere- away-"  
  
The man would sit, his head tilted delicately, one hand curled around a long-stemmed glass of wine, his thin lips curved slightly upward in detached amusement at the bloody, grovelling child at his feet. "You're weak," he always replied, his voice both hard and filled with pity at the same moment. It was the voice of a controller, of someone who knew exactly what he had been blessed with and precisely how to use it. "I have no use for you."  
  
No. Legato clenched his fists, tears slipping down his thin, haggard face- he couldn't stand this exquisite torment. That man clad in white was from another world, he could feel it, he could sense it, and he longed to be a part of His designs- "I'll get stronga' if you take me away, I can work 'arder, I will do anythin' for you if you jus' take me away..."  
  
The man would allow himself a full grin, then waved a hand and laughed harshly. "Little boys cry. I have no use for little boys." Legato found himself lifted from the ground, his dream world collapsing into a sensation of vertigo until he was eye-to-eye with that man, falling forward into eyes the color of the sky- unable, unwilling to escape. There was no kindness in the being's gaze, nothing but a calculating smile was shown on his features as he regarded the tiny boy.  
  
"When I...when I don' cry, will you...come?" Pale, bloodless palm scrabbled towards the man, thin skin melded with dirt encrused fingernails and old, aching scars. "When I'm worthy- please-"  
  
"You," the pale being said, his lips brushing across Legato's cheek and leaving a trail of fire there, the sensation burning long after it had ceased to be, "will never be worthy. You are human dirt, you have no value, no choice, no right to live."  
  
Legato's amber eyes widened slightly.  
  
"You will never be ready and you will never understand me," the narrow gaze the boy recieved as as frigid as ice, and he shrank back, making a valient effort to stem the tears in his eyes. "You will never recieve kindness at my hands and you will worship me, for I am not human, I am above you, and you are nothing."  
  
Abruptly Legato felt his body twist in a thousand directions all at once as he was flung to the cold floor, the sudden pain making him cry out again- he swallowed the agony without whimpering. He swallowed the words, taking them to heart, *believing them* with all of his soul. "I am nothing. He says I am nothing. He....He is..."  
  
The boy of six rolled in on himself and buried his face in his hands.  
  
In the small room where he was sleeping next to the trembling figure of his younger sister, Andante breathed a sigh of relief- Legato had finally stopped screaming.  
  
  
~~  
  
  
When Legato opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a blank wall made of crumbling wooden panels. He had no idea where he was, but wasn't disturbed by that at all- the whispers in his mind told him he was safe for the moment. A moment longer and he had taken stock of his physical condition- he was burning with hunger, and there were painful rents in the flesh all along his back, palms and sides-  
  
He closed his eyes again, wondering how much of his encounter with that God had been a delusional dream and how much of it had occured-  
  
"Lega-brother?" Andante was at his side as soon as she saw him move, watching him intensely through slanted lashes. "Yer awake!"  
  
Legtao stared at her, his gaze vauge and rather detached from reality. "Yes," he breathed softly, pulling himself into a sitting position in the bed. "I'm awake."  
  
"Ne, Lega-brother... I miss'd ya," Andante whispered softly, her palms balled into tiny fists. She looked as if she wanted to hug her brother outright, but was too terrified by his reaction to move a muscle- "You slept fereva'."  
  
"Don't miss anything," Legato whispered, his expression unfamilier to the girl he had spent his life with. "Never."  
  
"Lega-bro..."  
  
"Just Legato, Andante. My name is just Legato."  
  
As the blue-haired boy stood up shakily, flexing the ratty muscles on his arms and legs as his sister stared at him in shock. Legato *never* reprimanded her, and he never told her not to do something. He... "Lega...to...?"  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
Andante backed away, staring at her sibling with tears in her eyes. "We...we were picked up by Charlie," she whispered softly, confusion in her tone as she named their savior. "He's lettin' us stay here fer a bit," she choaked out, biting her lip nervously as Legato began peering around the room with the same cold expression he had worn when correcting her.  
  
"Charlie..." her brother whispered softly, his voice soft and almost silky- there was someone outside their door, he could feel the mind of a human, one filled with overconfidence and anger. He waited until the door had opened silently and the figure in the doorway was aout to speak. "I want to meet him."  
  
"Good, because he's waiting."  
  
Legato turned and greeted the newcomer with a cool, calm expression spread across his face- the man was dressed in all black, and had odd looking red lenses over both of his eyes. The man stepped aside somewhat quickly as Legato reached for his coat, a scraggly blue-black thing, and pulled it over his trousers and bandages. Andante was wearing a scruffy, long-sleeved green shirt, and she padded behind him, barefoot and terrified. What had happened to her brother that night? He was acting even more distant than usual, and when her mind brushed against him it came in contact with something that was spookily like an erected wall, keeping her from sensing any of his thoughts. The man they were following led them through dimly lit corridors, hallways Andante had explored a bit but never fully- after almost five minutes of silent travel, they reached an impressive looking doorway, which was pushed open-  
  
"Ah, our two newest guests are awake." The main occupant of the room was a tall figure with long, dark hair that was tied back at the nape of his neck and slanting, emerald colored eyes. He wore a maroon suit and held a thin cigarette between his fingers- Legato took an immediate dislike to him. His mind felt slippery, it was difficult to read even though he had no telepathic power that the boy could sense... "Did you sleep well, children?"  
  
Andante nodded mutely- the only sound in the room was that of a distant saxophone, wailing on in another corridor. "Good," the man smirked slightly, breathing out a long cloud of smoke. "I'm Charlie. What are your names?"  
  
"Andante Bluesummers," the girl said immediately, her voice quivering with suppressed st rain. Legato said nothing, just stood in the half-light of the smoky room with his arms folded across his chest- "And this is my big brother...Legato."  
  
For a moment she feared that he would last out and hurt her for daring to speak his name, but another second passed and nothing happened, so she allowed herself to relax slightly. Legato, at her side, was engaged in a staring contest with the 'Charlie,' golden eyes meeting emerald with an unspoken challenge, filled with defiance.  
  
"I run a simple show here," the man smirked, tapping the ashes off the tip of his cigarette. They fluttered the ground, as he continued, catching Andante's attention for a moment before the words continued. "You live here, I get a cut of whatever you chose to do."  
  
"To do?" the girl asked, startled.  
  
"You've had a few free days...since you're so young, there's only one thing you can manage. But if you do it well, I will provide you with a roof and food- what more could you possibly want?"  
  
Legato narrowed his eyes. He didn't want a home, he didn't want a job- all he needed was to become stronger and impress the Being that had graced him with a few words and a faint, fleeting touch-  
  
His cheek was burning again, and Legato shifted in surprise at the suddenly remembered sensation. A kiss...?  
  
"-you will pick pockets," Charlie continued, oblivious to Legato's brooding as he explained. "At the end of each day you will split your earnings with me, and be allowed to stay another night. Fair enough for you?"  
  
"Lega-bro...Legato..." Andante flinched away from the look her brother gave her when she faltered on his name. Legato gave her no suggestions, so she shifted nervously and thought about the decision- Legato was not himself. They were being offered food, a place to stay...and Legato was injured..."Can we stay?" she asked him softly, not really expecting an answer from her sibling.  
  
None came.  
  
Fine, Andante decided, feeling a bit betrayed by Legato's silent lack of a response. "We'll stay," she told Charlie coldly, trying to imitate the way her brother stood, so extremely detached from the activities around him. "Only until Legato is healthy again."  
  
"Fine," a pause, Charlie turned and waved to someone on the side- a young man with sharply spiked dark hair and chocolate eyes appeared half a breath later, slinging his saxophone across one shoulder- it hung there by his neckstrap, oddly polished in the grungy surroundings. "Take them to their room."  
  
Legato lingered a moment, staring at Charlie darkly. Smirking slightly, he 'leaned' a bit on the mind before him- and his eyes widened as the mind fought back, wrapping itself around him with one fluid motion.  
  
//What, you think you're the only telepath around, Legato Bluesummers?//  
  
Stuttering, Legato took two steps backwards and winced at the pounding voice that rattled through his mind- it was strong, but did not have a lot of power behind it. Legato had the nagging suspicion that he would be able to defeat this man if it came to an out and out battle of wills- not at the moment, of course. Right now he was injured and his power was much to sapped by his experiance- dream? - days before. //No? Well, you're weak, kid. And far too young to challenge someone like me... Turn around and follow your sister...if you stay alive long enough, you might learn something from me.//  
  
Legato barely managed to keep from shaking as he exited the room.  



	4. Midvalley

  
  
The man who showed them through the hallways of Charlie's den had an annoying habit of allowing his thoughts to be broadcasted on the mental equivelent of a wide-band frequency. Legato put up with it for a few minutes with practiced ease, his shock at the mindspeak that had touched him so great that it distracted him from all other issues. After another five minutes of walking, Legato snapped. The thoughts of humankind were eternally dirty, endlessly disgusting, and often cruel. They made Legato feel sick with their constant petty worrying- it washed against his mind like waves against a pebble caught in a sea of madness… Without a second thought he dealt with Midvalley in the same way he handled any ignorant human… Legato closed his eyes for a moment, then drew up his ability and shoved a backlash of mental energy towards the figure-  
  
Andante screamed shrilly as both her brother and the man before him seemed to buckle and fall, as if they were caught beneath some sort of great weight. "Legato!" she shrieked, falling to her knees and shaking him softly, the touch blocked by the tattered layers of clothing her brother constantly wore. "Legato?"  
  
When the blue haired boy rolled over, he was grimacing, gritting his teeth and moaning softly through pursed lips. Knees tucked against his chest, knuckles colored the impatient white of suppressed agony, his eyes furious and wide with the burning sensation of another mind brushing with his. Was he really that weak? With a low groan, Legato narrowed his eyes and got to his hands and knees, breath hissing through his teeth as the effort of movement burnt his muscles. Of course, he had given the Being all of his energy without a second thought…  
  
Offering a hand though she knew the offer would be ignored, Andante licked her lips nervously- Legato, helpless. Legato….   
  
"Damn it, kid, you…don't do that. I'm on your side, alright?" The saxophone player grunted as he sat up, obviously not understanding what had just happened. With a glare he stood shakily, grabbing Legato by the wrist and yanking him upwards-  
  
//annoyancefearmustworkfinishallbeautifulkidsshameforthemhellholegetup//  
  
Legato screamed, the sound bitter and agonized, bursting from his throat before he could do anything to control it. The blue haired child was uncontrollably writhing and curling in on himself as waves of the most primitive emotions imaginable began swarming over his mind, endless, dark, tormenting. Skin to skin contact tended to drive Legato absolutely mad- it was the same with every telepath. For as long as Andante could remember her brother reacted to touch as if it was a burning brand of metal, a simple brush of skin was enough to shake his hold on reality and send him falling into the mind of another being, absorbing their thoughts and feelings and soul-  
  
//painhungerendlessworkinghatredtalentmusicwantingneedhelphatredconfusion//  
  
"What the hell?!" Midvalley recoiled from the screaming child, dropping Legato in a heartbeat and leaping back. It almost felt like they were sharing thoughts- the dividing line between the two seemed to blur and disappear, until Midvalley was looking down at himself, feeling the fear and anger and hatred and worship and power that made up the boy called Legato Bluesummers. He could see a woman, her hair blonde and curly as it fell over her shoulders, her eyes wide even in death- he could see his own life, his own childhood, the death of his brother and the hunger and starvation of the streets-  
  
When Legato collapsed at his feet, he scarcely knew what to do. It was a moment before he could be sure his thoughts were his own, and even then they were shaky and echoing what he had felt only seconds before- telepathic, power that burned his veins, and there was white being with ice-blue eyes staring down at him, raising a hand, sending spirals of beautiful, beautiful pain through his stomach- "Hell… oh, hell. Shit, you…you just…."   
  
Legato didn't move.  
  
Focus, Midvalley, he's just a brat. Calm. He's like Charlie, just untrained and young. He's nothing, take a deep breath, close your eyes, count to ten and then take control of the situation… **I hate children,** he scowled furiously as Andante scrabbled to help her brother, terrified of touching him but too worried not to try. Legato shoved her away with his gloved palms and glared up at Midvalley. **He's a creepy little one, with those eyes…Charlie's got to be crazy, trying to use something like this…** "Look, kid, I dunno what just happened, but don't pull that again."  
  
Legato's lips were firm and thin with antipathy, his eyes narrow and defiant- he reminded Midvalley of the starving dogs that roamed the back streets. Deprived of comfort, Legato was scrabbling for any kind of hold in the world, but ready to bite the hand that offered any sort of peace-  
  
Midvalley shifted his weight as he regarded the beautiful child before him thoughtfully. With glowing amber eyes, dark hair and full lips, he knew what this boy's fate would be once word of his appearance got around… "Look, your room is right ahead. Let's just keep moving, okay? You can break down there."  
  
As he began moving again, he could feel those ever-so-amber eyes burning into his back with a disconcertingly cruel expression… The girl, too, would be put to good use by the older men, but more often than not a pretty boy was abused awfully… Somehow he knew that if the boy was taken now, he would never quite recover from the shock, the violation and guilt. **It doesn't matter,** Midvalley reminded himself sharply before reminders of his own experiences could bring back painful memories. After all, it wasn't as if he was any better than the other thieves and lackeys in the building when it came to any sort of morals….not to mention that he was being paid to obey, not warn and protect the first children he was told to show the ropes.  
  
Shoving open their door, Midvalley checked his saxophone absently as the two kids nervously stood back in the hallway. "You have to enter the room to put it to any use, you know," the man glowered at the two. "You're even getting double quarters, you should be grateful they're giving you that much."  
  
Legato threw himself past the musician and found his way to the bed- he didn't dare show another sign of weakness to the black-haired man, and the contact they had previously shared was still burning in his mind, although by now it was fainter and much more coherent.  
  
**If I warn them, that'll be enough,** Midvalley shifted. "What are your names? I'm Midvalley. Musician. Charlie's told me to show you how things work around here, so if you have any questions…"  
  
Neither offered their name, making the saxophone player scowl in grim annoyance. "Okay. Fine. I don't care what you're called, I don't give a damn about you two- and I promise no one else will, either. A word to the wise, though… You're younger than we usually catch, and you're…just…"  
  
Legato could feel the slippery nervousness and knew that Midvalley, despite his obvious lack of telepathic control of any sort, could feel the power that Legato had the ability to wield. His thoughts were unsettled and slightly confused- "Nobody in this building can be trusted. Cover your ass or someone else will, and I promise you won't enjoy it," the horn player added grimly before half-turning and glancing at Legato over his shoulder. Eerie eyes dusted with light, thin bangs, a pale skin tone and slim fingers- beautiful for all his unused though certainly not innocent youth….  
  
"I don't let those who touch me survive," Legato whispered, his voice as disturbing as his features. It was soft and silky and low for a boy of six, who was untouched by any throes of adulthood.  
  
The musician swallowed and escaped from those eyes before he could be tempted any further by the pale faced demon behind him. Whoever did take that boy for their own…he rather pitied them. Nothing would be worth the death that would surely meet them- not even a night with a thin, willowy, pretty-faced child beneath you.  
  
Ever.  
  
Shifting his saxophone over his shoulder in the hallway, Midvalley froze. Had that been a warning? A promise? When he had snatched Legato's wrist up in a moment of panic, that ribbon-thin connection had sent both of them reeling in a heartbeat… Licking his lips, Midvalley pushed back the crushing realization with a wave of ineffective denial- It was true, it had to be, it could be read in the glowing eyes he had finally escaped from. Midvalley, soon to be called Hornfreak, had forfeited his life the moment he had touched that boy's fevered skin.  
  
**  
  
"The best places to hit are the ones where there's a crowd," Midvalley gestured towards the crowded square before them. There seemed to be people everywhere, their minds as fast-paced and bubbling as the pace of the street itself. Legato shifted uncomfortably and tried to block out the multiple minds- everything had been much more difficult for him since he had met the Being.  
  
"I was a pickpocket when they first picked me up," Midvalley explained, running a hand across his ebony hair. "Usually you can get away with it until you're ten or so. Once you get to big for that Charlie will give you another Job, and you can earn your keep that way."  
  
As Midvalley's voice went on, Andante looked over to her brother and swallowed nervously. Legato's eyes were unfocused as he regarded the swarming humans with something in his expression that reeked of annoyed disdain crossed with disgust. The last few days had changed her brother so much that she was almost afraid of him, now…almost unconsciously, she slipped her hand into Midvalley's grasp and leaned against him for comfort.  
  
The saxophone player raised his brows in surprise as the light contact sent a shiver through his spine- Andante was telepathic, though her power was not at her brother's level- or perhaps she had more control over it? It was hard to tell with those two… At any rate, he let her hold his hand. It reminded him of the brother he had once had…  
  
Legato turned to look at them, one of his eyes hidden under the shaggy hair that fell past his shoulders in a grimy, uncombed mess. If he noticed the contact his sister and the man were sharing, he said nothing at all on it, instead shifted his weight and waited.  
  
"Legato doesn't like crowds," Andante said quietly.  
  
"Can you get used to them, Legato?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Hm…" A smirk. "You could beg…"  
  
"No," Legato growled swiftly, the one word feral and foreign on his lips.  
  
After a long pause in which the three observed the daily grind of December city, Andante spoke up again. "What do ya do, mista' Midvalley?"  
  
"I play my horn, of course. I make an honest living…well, during the day, at least."  
  
"Do you kill people?" The young voice was quivering, and Midvalley frowned slightly, wondering which answer would please the child more.  
  
**Wait, wait, I don't want to please her. I just train her and brag about it if she doesn't die off on her first real job…** Clearing his throat he and answered outloud. "Yeah, if I can get them alone. A saxophone is tough to take care of…especially a custom built one, like mine." He allowed a wry grin to slip across his face.  
  
Legato's face had taken on the most thoughtful expression Midvalley had ever seen him wear. "May I kill people?"  
  
"At your age?"  
  
"Humans are stupid. I would like to make them die," the words were soft and toneless as he waited for an answer.  
  
"How? You got any ideas?"  
  
"We c'n do what we's always done…" Andante suggested nervously, glancing from Midvalley to her brother with suppressed fear- or was it surprise? "I jus' act lost and have the dumber ones take me somewhere…Legato fixes 'em good." It was a plan that had served them many times in the past when they had desperately needed to eat... But that was back when Legato actually spoke, when he asked her things, when he always gave her first pick of the dumpster scraps…  
  
The saxophone player looked surprised. "I didn't know you two had conned before…if you know how to do it, do it. But don't let yourself get caught- and above all, never give Charlie away. Is that understood?"  
  
Andante nodded and winced slightly as Midvalley removed her hand from his grasp. "I work the street next to this, I play on the corner in the morning and in the 'Cat Scratch Club' in the evening. After eleven I hit the 'private parties,' so to speak. If you need me go there, but try to avoid being seen with me at any time."  
  
Nervously the girl watched him leave, then turned to her brother. "What're we gonna start with?"  
  
Legato regarded his sister thoughtfully, then let his gaze slip down to her legs, half-covered by overly large, tattered brown breeches. "We need blood." For a moment Andante thought he was going to hit her- he raised one hand, but didn't advance on her- instead he just turned and picked an alley, heading into it without hesitating. Minutes later Andante was smearing warm cat's blood across her legs and smudging a bit on her cheekbone and temple with practiced ease.  
  
When she hobbled out into the street she received the normal reactions to such a plight- some people shied away from her injuries, but there was always someone who would stick an arm out and catch her shoulders.  
  
  
"Little girl, are you alright?"  
  
  
"M…m'leg…fell…"  
  
  
"Where do you live?"  
  
  
"By the old church…on…on Eym Circle.."  
  
  
"Are your parents home?"  
  
  
"Mum works…"  
  
  
"Let's get you cleaned up, then."  
  
  
Legato was waiting for them in the rafters of the half-built church's steeple, his short legs dangling off the thick beam and his hair fluttering slightly in the wind. Amber eyes studied his sibling as she led a middle aged man down the street- pausing to bawl a bit in relief and point out 'her house' with a grubby finger. The man grinned at her and promised to help her call her mother home.  
  
  
It was easy to wrap his fingers around the length of metal pipe he had chosen, and even simpler to leap from the steeple and bring the rod down against the skull before him. As the skull crunched up and bits of slimy gray-pink brain splattered across the sidewalk, Legato reached down and rolled him over, staring thoughtfully into wide, half-smashed eyes. "He's still warm," the boy purred softly, giving the man a swift kick in the stomach and sending another mess across the pavement.  
  
  
"I'll get his wallet," Andante immediately offered, knowing how her brother hated touching flesh.  
  
  
"No," Legato ordered without raising his voice. Somehow the lack of any sort of enthusiasm in his tone managed to make it all the more threatening… "I will."  
  
  
He reached down and pressed his palm to the side of the man's cheek, fascinated by the cooling skin- he had never touched a human before, even the ones he killed… Bodies were something to be avoided, lest you soil the bottom of your boots with red… But surely dead things couldn't share thoughts! Legato smiled serenely as he traced his finger through the blood on the man's lips, dragging it across his face into a streaking, smiling arc across the man's cheeks and chin.  
  
  
"Legato-" Andante started, taking two steps backwards.  
  
  
"Shh."  
  
  
Another finger found a break in the skin, pressed itself inwards into the dying heat, returned to it's body coated in blood. Legato curiously raised it to his nose and sniffed once, then tentatively licked at his fingers-  
  
  
Warm, salty-sour, metallic and tangy, the taste of sweat and the taste of pain. The smile he wore widened with the new taste, and Legato quickly cleaned his hand of the liquid, pleased with himself.  
  
  
The next kill was much the same, Andante leading a woman away, tempting the redhead into a low-level apartment complex and distracting her while Legato attacked from behind. This time, however, his exploration didn't cease with her blood. The boy unbuttoned the blouse, stared at her breasts with a slight frown creasing his lips, then swung his weapon of choice - a brick, now - and sullying the pure white flesh of the woman's torso.  
  
  
He played with her blood then, steeping his fingers in it and pressing them into her mouth, feeling the sharp outlines of her slightly crooked teeth and the roof of her mouth with curious fingers, his touch leaving trails of small, bloody handprints against her skin.  
  
  
Legato Bluesummers decided that he liked this new game.  



End file.
